


wrap me in your scent

by Areiton



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [14]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scent & Smells, Scenting, Temporary Blindness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 06:07:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19717762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: He can hear the sound of machines, can smell the sharp bite of industrial cleaners and anesthetics and there’s a too familiar pull of tape and needles on his arm, and he flails, just for a second, to pull them free even as he opens his eyes.Darkness greets him.Tony Stark Bingo: A1





	wrap me in your scent

He can hear the sound of machines, can smell the sharp bite of industrial cleaners and anesthetics and there’s a too familiar pull of tape and needles on his arm, and he flails, just for a second, to pull them free even as he opens his eyes.

Darkness greets him.

Darkness and the shrill machine screaming his distress and the sound of footsteps.

Tony screamed.

~*~

He woke again, and this time, he was cradled by a warm body. He inhaled and went limp with relief, clinging tighter.

Sandalwood and the warm coconut oil he used on his skin and hair, the hint of bergamot and spice from the cologne he’d been using since they were in college, the sharp note of oil and metal, all wrapped around Tony in a soothing scent that calmed his rioting senses.

His chest rumbled under Tony’s cheek, Rhodey’s familiar lullaby cradling him to sleep.

~*~

They think it’s temporary.

A by-product of the nasty concussion Tony got while fighting Doom and his damn bots. They say that when the swelling goes down, his vision should come back.

They say he’s lucky.

They say he has to wait.

They talk and talk and his breathing gets tighter, choppy, until Rhodey says, sharply, “ _Enough.”_

They leave, and Rhodey’s hand closes on his, tight and grounding and Tony latches onto it, like it’s all that’s keeping him afloat.

~*~

The others come in. He can hear them, place them around the room—Natasha and Barton and Steve and Sam. He wishes they’d leave. Rhodey is talking to the doctor and their voices are loud, overwhelming.

There’s a part of him that is terrified, still in that cold bunker in Siberia, that doesn’t ever want to be vulnerable in front of them.

Then someone lands next to him, snuggles close, all warm and teenage sweat and bubblegum and chemicals. He leans into Peter and smiles, some of the terror dimming.

~*~

He wakes and no one speaks, but he reaches out and she takes his hand, warm and strong, the air ripe with the scent of citrus and sugar and steel. They aren’t together, haven’t been for years, but Pepper has always smelt of safety, of stability and security and he holds her hand and listens to her talk about the board and the company and how he needs to find better ways to take a break, and he doesn’t comment on the salty tang in the air or the way her voice shakes, sometimes.

~*~

He can see, faint outlines in the dark.

It’s not much.

It’s not what he wants.

But it’s something.

He lays in Rhodey’s arms every night, listens to him breath and counts shadows in the glow of the arc reactor.

~*~

He cries.

In his shower, alone, after he’s been finally released from the med-wing, he cries.

He breaks down there on the expensive tile, the water beating down around him, and he thinks he’d stay there forever.

He hears the footsteps, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t react at all, just curls tighter into himself and cries.

But there is Rhodey, warm wet skin and the familiar crisp cool scent of their mint bodywash, and his hands gentle as they wash Tony, his lips brushing against his skin. His fingers comb through Tony’s hair, gentle scrub the vanilla scented shampoo into his hair. He holds Tony, close, until the world narrows down to this, the water around them and strong arms holding him and the warm scent of skin under his lips.

~*~

Tony never flinches, when Rhodey puts him on the sink and lathers his skin, the scent of methanol and eucalyptus as soothing as Rhodey’s fingers turning his face. He closes his eyes, surrenders to the darkness and the gentle touch of the razor against his throat.

~*~

He feels, almost, like himself, when he lays gasping on his back, legs spread, come sticky on his chest, the scent of sex and sweat thick in the air and Rhodey’s tongue languid in his mouth.

He holds on tight and whispers, “I love you.”

~*~

He can see the dim light of the sun and the shadow he knows is Rhodey and he can hear Peter’s voice in the penthouse, can smell coffee and sugar and mint on Rhodey’s breathe and bacon, and coconut oil on the hand tilting his chin up.

He inhales, the deep rich scent that is his life, that is everything he loves, and surrenders to the kiss, to the love that holds him steady in the darkness.


End file.
